


Sleigh Bells Rings

by alafaye



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/pseuds/alafaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new tradition begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleigh Bells Rings

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 winter advent challenge; master list and prompts can be found [here](http://alafaye.livejournal.com/350228.html). This is day 14, sleigh.

Greg woke up when someone--hopefully Mycroft--kissed his cheek. He smiled and rolled onto his back, straight into his lover. "Morning."

Mycroft grinned and kissed him properly. "Mm, happy Christmas."

Greg nosed his temple. "And to you."

Mycroft gave him another kiss. "It's just dawn, but I want to take you around the grounds."

Greg winced as he tipped his head back to look through the windows behind the bed. It really was just dawn, the winter sunlight only beginning to weakly shine down. Greg looked at Mycroft. "It's going to be freezing."

Myrcoft smirked. "So dress warmly."

Greg chucked a pillow at Mycroft's back as his lover entered the en suite. Yawning, Greg rubbed his face and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had hoped for a lie in as both he and Mycroft were technically off duty for Christmas, but it made sense to get something out of the day before their usual luck hit them. He pulled some of his warmest clothes from the bureau--one learned to be prepared when staying at the Holmes estate--and shuffled into the bathroom with Mycroft.

~~~

Greg blinked. "A sleigh?"

Mycroft tilted his chin up. "Yes. A sleigh."

Greg sucked in a deep breath. He'd been out to the Holmes estate several times, been in the 'carriage house' on most of his visits, but he had never seen a sleigh. "Is this new?"

"A gift," Mycroft replied. "Someone gave it to my mother in hopes that she would marry him when he proposed in it, but..."

Greg chuckled. He couldn't imagine Mycroft's mother marrying anyone--she hadn't ever been married, in fact. Mycroft and Sherlock were both children of men their mother had met while on holiday--men easily forgotten after and who needn't ever know they had had a son. Mycroft had shared a story of the year when Sherlock had been determined to find his father, assured that life would be better with him than their mother, but when Mycroft had hinted that Sherlock's father might be a boring, humdrum, dock worker with no access to the fun toys Mother did, well. 

"So I take it she thanked him for the gift and then asked that he keep his distance?" Greg hedged.

Mycroft smirked. "Quite."

They climbed into the sleigh where a small picnic waited for them. Greg happily poured them both a cup that Mycroft managed to hold while also somehow managing to steer the horse. Biting into a scone, Greg sat back and enjoyed the ride. It was damned cold, as he had said it would be, but the blanket across their laps kept them somewhat warm, like the coffee did. And it had snowed last night, the fresh layer sparkling in the morning light.

"This is lovely," Greg told Mycroft.

Mycroft smiled softly. "I thought you would like it."

"Bit romantic for my taste, but it's nice," Greg agreed. "Refreshing."

It was, too. The estate was well away from the smog that seemed to plague lower England and far away from the nearest town or village. Quiet, restful; it was the perfect getaway for recharging the batteries--because the truth was that Mycroft and Greg were both city born and bred and they would find themselves lost tonight without the hustle and bustle of the city.

Mycroft set down his cup--fancy that, a cup holder in a sleigh--and took Greg's hand in his. "Maybe we can make this our holiday tradition?"

Greg didn't have to think about it. It was too early, really, but it sounded nice. "I'd like that, yeah."

Mycroft's eyes softened and he tightened his hand around Greg's. Nothing more was said, but there wasn't really anything else that needed to be said. Well, except for one tiny question.

"Mycroft, you're not going to propose, though. Right?"

"Not here at least."

"Oh, good. Wait, what?"


End file.
